Dadaism
by skullfarmer
Summary: Dumbledore,McGonagall and Snape interview potential DADA teachers. Not great,but not bad. Complete


DADAISM  
By Ed Cowell  
  
Disclaimer: most of the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I made up  
Chillinger and Bob. I am unaware who owns the other applicant. Raymond Chandler belongs to the world.  
  
Snape swept into the office exactly on time. The Headmaster was already there,behind his desk,reading a paperback novel. Professor McGonagall   
sat near him,petting Fawkes,who saw Snape and sang a happy note.   
"What are you reading?" Snape asked.  
"Raymond Chandler. THE LADY IN THE LAKE." Dumbledore said. Snape raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you've never read him."  
"Surprised?" McGonagall asked,smiling.  
"Minerva,my dear,I am rather well-read."  
"Pay no attention to me,Severus," she said. "I know you love a good puzzle."  
She returned her attention to Fawkes. Snape joined in,scratching the   
bird's head; Fawkes nuzzled his fingers.  
"When will they get here,Albus?" McGonagall said.  
Snape looked down at her. "I saw someone in the hallway-actually,I think  
they were Siamese triplets. Is there such a thing as Siamese triplets?"   
"I think 'are there such things' is gramatically correct,Severus."  
Snape shrugged. "What can I say,Minerva? I are the product of a first-class eddication."  
"You know,Severus,sometimes you can be so charming-"  
"Well,what are they,then,Albus? Has he been croned?"  
"Has he been what?"  
"You mean 'cloned.' No,he hasn't. Those three men are Ishmael Chillinger."  
McGonagall sat straighter. "Ishmael Chillinger? Teaching here?"  
"Wait,I saw three-"  
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "They are Professor Chillinger."  
"All three of them?"  
"He ran afoul of a sorceress awhile back. Are you familiar with Freud?"  
"Sigmund Freud..." Snape wondered out loud.  
"She split him into three. One of them is his ego. One of them is   
his superego and the other is his id."  
"I'll go get them. Him." Snape stalked out of the room. He returned with  
three men. They were all dressed identically and in every other way appeared   
to be exactly the same tall, broad-shouldered man with mushroomy brown hair,  
and large sapphire eyes. He wore muggle clothing-a pair of jeans,sneakers,  
and a shirt slathered with fake bloodstains which read FLORIDA KEYS ALLIGATOR WRESTLING TEAM,complete with a hungry alligator stretching its jaws towards the outside world. "Ah. Professor Chillinger," Dumbledore said. "We were indeed honored to recieve your application-"  
"Application?" the first Chillinger asked; he had been shaking with fear.  
He looked like he wanted to scream. "I don't remember an application."  
"Thank you,Headmaster," the Chillinger on the other end said. "Hogwarts'  
reputation precedes it. As soon as I heard of an open position...well,I  
just had to send in my resume'."  
"I may have sent in a resume," the second Chillinger said. "Then again-"  
"That's all right," the third Chillinger said. "He wasn't talking to you."  
"He might have been talking to me," the second Chillinger said.  
"No,he was talking to me."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Look,we agreed I'd do all the talking. Now,the two of you,just sit back."  
The second Chillinger crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.  
The first Chillinger,biting his fingernails like a typewriter,sat back too  
far,and the chair crashed to the floor.  
Dumbledore began to get up.   
"Is he all right?" Professor McGonagall asked.  
"He'll be fine," the second Chillinger said.  
"He doesn't get much sleep," the third one said. "Now. I would say that if   
I can put up with these two,I would be the best choice for the position. I  
would be teaching the class,of course. These two aren't really ready to deal  
with a classroom situation. Would it be possible to come back later when  
these two aren't as active? "  
"That will be fine, Professor."  
"Excellent. I'll go down to Hogsmeade and fill them full of sugar. I can  
be back whenever is best for you."  
"We'll send you an owl," Dumbledore said.  
"Wonderful. I'll see us out."  
He gathered the other two and they shuffled out of the office.  
Snape blew air from between his lips; his hair levitated for a moment,then  
fell back to his forehead.   
"What's wrong,Severus?"  
"Nothing. It's just that I'd rather not write 'Applicant is a raving lunatic' on the evaluation form,Minerva."  
"He is not a lunatic," McGonagall said. "I imagine that someone in   
his situation would be forced to take a highly introspective assesment of themselves."   
"Was there anyone else in the hall,Severus?"  
"I don't remember," Snape said. "I'll go and see."  
"Would you like a lemon drop,Severus?"  
Snape flashed a confused grin over his shoulder.  
He came back with a man who looked older than Dumbledore. He wore muggle  
clothing,as well,but that was because he appeared to be a regular human  
being. He looked lost,possibly a bit senile. Dumbledore had once seen a   
perfectly awful film called DEAD POETS SOCIETY; this unfortunate being was the living embodiment of the sweaty-toothed madman.   
"And you are..." he consulted the sheet. "Frodge?"  
"Right," the man said.  
"Frodge..."  
"Just Frodge."  
"And what are your qualifications?"  
"I know a joke."  
Dumbledore smiled. "Let's hear it."  
"Okay...well,there's this seminar,right? And the hall is filled with people  
who've had ghostly encounters-did I mention that this is a seminar about  
supernatural phenomena?"  
"You just did," Dumbledore said.  
"Oh. Well,okay. First speaker gets up,and takes a show of hands with the  
question,'How many of you have ever seen a ghost?' and hands just shoot up  
all over the place. He decides to narrow it down,and asks 'How many of you  
have ever spoken with a ghost?' and a lot of hands drop. He smiles and   
just for a laugh he asks,"How many of you have had sex with a ghost?' and   
only one hand stays up,and it's this old,old man...'Sir?' says the speaker  
and the old man shouts 'Yeah?' back. 'Sir,you have actually had SEX with  
a GHOST?' and the old man smiles and says 'Oh...I'm sorry,young man,I thought you said GOAT.'"  
They stared at him,openmouthed,unable to speak.   
Professor McGonagall was the first to recover. She smiled gently."I don't mean to be rude," she said,"But how does that qualify you to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts?"  
"Defense against the what,now?"  
Snape led the man out of the room. It was awhile before he came back.  
"What in the name of Merlin was that?"  
"I suspect the work of Fred and George Weasley. "   
"Frodge," McGonagall said.   
"I see it now.I wouldn't put it past them to find the weirdest human being on the planet and sign him up."  
"I'll have to have a talk with them," Dumbledore said,his eyes twinkling.   
"Headmaster,if there's no one else-"  
Dumbledore consulted the paper. "I don't see anyone else scheduled here."  
Just then,Hagrid yanked the door open and ran in. "'Lo,Professor Snape. Professor McGonagall. Sir,one of the pumpkins in m'pumpkin patch...it's come ta life."  
"One of the big ones?"  
"How is it getting around?" Snape asked. "Did it grow feet?"  
"It's rollin' all over th' place,and growlin' at me..."  
"Very well,Hagrid,we'll be there momentarily."  
"Thank yeh,sir."  
He made his exit.  
McGonagall looked at Snape and fell to the floor,convulsing with laughter.  
Dumbledore,amazed,saw that Snape was trying not to laugh himself. Even  
Fawkes was laughing,squawking as he bobbed his head.  
"Feet?" Minerva said. "Oh,Severus...I wish you could see inside my head..."  
Severus managed to say "A pumpkin waddling around on its little feet-" and had to hide his face in his hands.   
When they had calmed down,Dumbledore noticed something. "Wait...before we  
assist Hagrid...there is one more name,after all. It was just on the other  
side of the paper..."  
"One more applicant today? Well,send him in."  
Severus began to get up.  
The man who entered the room looked like he had battled evil. He was   
a rugged,dark-haired man with dark blue eyes; Dumbledore could feel their   
intensity; he looked as if he had come up against dark forces beyond   
a normal person's comprehension and emerged victorious; but he had not  
triumphed without scars. He slammed his hand onto the table.   
It was made not of flesh,but metal.   
"The name," he said,"is Ash." 


End file.
